If you haven’t already heard about Baettig, we urge you to read some of our previous coverage of this rising-star producer. Conceived by Francisco Baettig (the winemaker behind Errázuriz, Seña and Chadwick) and Carlos de Carlos (previously Commercial Director at Errázuriz, he now works for Paul Hobbs) over dinner in London in 2010, Baettig is one of Chile’s most exciting projects – crafting site-driven wines from Malleco and the Maule.  The duo spent years seeking out the right site – realising that to find vineyards that met their standards, they’d have to plant them themselves. In 2013 they put their first vines in the ground, planting Burgundy clones of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir in Traiguén, in the Malleco province. Both Francisco and Carlos had family ties to the region – making it seem like fate.  The site, however, wasn’t chosen purely for their emotional connection to the area, but with an eye on sustainability and quality. This is one of Chile’s southernmost wine regions, with red clay, clay loam and volcanic soils, cool conditions, 25% less sunshine than the Central Valley and – most importantly – plentiful rainfall, allowing them to dry-farm the vines and produce restrained, Burgundy-inspired Pinot Noir and Chardonnay with moderate alcohol levels, bright acidity and vibrant fruit. Francisco is clear that the quality of their vine material has been key to their success – as it is only relatively recently that Chile had access to high-quality, clean Burgundy clones.  While Baettig started with Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, the producer has since added Cabernet Sauvignon from old vines in the Maule to the range, unsurprising given Francisco made his name making Chile’s icon wines.  Fourteen years after they first imagined their joint project, we welcomed Francisco to London to look back at the Baettig journey so far – tasting through a vertical and exploring how the project has developed and evolved.  About the Baettig range  There are currently two tiers to the Baettig range, with the idea that a top tier, single-vineyard offering that will be their “Grand Cru” of sorts, is likely to be added in the future. The current range comprises:  Vino de Viñedo: these wines are a vineyard selection designed for earlier drinking, effectively a “village” equivalent. The Chardonnay and Pinot Noir at this level go by the name of Los Parientes (“the relatives”, a reference to the closeness of the different parcels), while the Cabernet Sauvignon is called Los Compadres (“close friends” – a tribute to the growers with whom they’re working). Los Compadres is sourced from various dry-farmed, cool plots in the more coastal areas of the Maule, with the vines all over 30 years in age and some up to 150 years old, creating lively, juicy and intense expressions of Cabernet Sauvignon. The first vintage of the Los Parientes Pinot Noir and Chardonnay was 2019, while the first vintage of the Los Compadres was 2021. These may be the entry point to the Baettig range, and they are made to drink on release, but they also – like good village Burgundy – have capacity to evolve and will only benefit from an extra year or two in bottle.  Selección de Parcelas: their “Premier Cru” equivalent range, made in smaller volumes from specific parcels and built for longer ageing. These wines see a higher proportion of new oak and longer ageing prior to release. The Chardonnay and Pinot Noir are labelled under the Los Primos name (“the cousins”), while the Cabernet Sauvignon is named Los Padrinos (“the godparents”). The Pinot Noir comes from their El Primo, Chuir, and La Cuñada parcels, chosen for their elegance, structure and ageing potential; while the Chardonnay comes from the Triángulo and Llaima parcels, creating mineral, vertical wines that are all about tension. The first Los Primos Chardonnay and Pinot Noir were made in 2016, with the first wide release from 2017, and Los Padrinos was first made in 2022. Volumes of these wines are tiny, with just 300 to 350 cases made of each of the Selección de Parcelas.  About the winemaking The emphasis with Baettig is firmly on expressing site – and as such the winemaking is very “light touch”, allowing the sense of place to shine through in the wines. The style has evolved, with the use of oak reduced a little from the earliest vintages, generally shifting toward less time in barrel, larger casks and smaller portions of new wood. The fruit is all hand-picked and fermented with indigenous yeasts. The cooler sites, combined with the way Baettig farms and when they harvest, produces fruit with naturally low pH, allowing them to use minimal amounts of sulphur (although with sufficient doses to allow the wines to age and be shipped around the world).  For the Chardonnay, it is all whole-cluster pressed and cold-settled, prior to native ferment in old French barriques. Malolactic fermentation on the Chardonnay is left to happen or not, according to the vintage conditions (with often around a third going through). The élevage for all the wines varies according to the vintage, but the Los Parientes Chardonnay normally spends eight to 10 months in cask, with up to 15% new oak, while the Los Primos spends between 10-15 months in barrel with up to 35% new oak. The new oak for the Chardonnay is all larger 300- and 400-litre casks. A portion of the Pinot Noir is whole-bunch fermented (typically 10-20%), with the rest de-stemmed – with fermentation all in used oak. The Los Parientes stays in barrel for around eight to 10 months, with up to 15% new oak; for the Los Primos, it is 15-16 months, with up to 40% new wood – with the new oak all 300-litre barrels.  For the Cabernet Sauvignon, the fruit is all de-stemmed. Fermentation temperatures are low at around 24-28˚C, with maceration for a maximum 20 days, given the natural concentration and structure of the fruit. The Los Compadres is aged for 10 months in French oak (20% new), while the Los Padrinos spends 15 months in 65% new oak (including around a third in larger 300-litre barrels).  Tasting through the range, there is a clear stamp of style – a flinty restraint, with the emphasis on crunchy fruit and minerality, vibrant acidity, moderate alcohols. While some of the earlier vintages might have offered more overt oak in their youth, this has integrated with time in bottle – and the wines offer at most a subtle spicy complexity. They are beautifully judged, pure expressions of Traiguén.   About the vintages 2022: Generally speaking, 2022 was an outstanding vintage. In Malleco, the year was cooler than average. Winter was relatively dry, with little rain in spring and cool conditions including frost in September and October, leading to particularly low yields. Weather warmed up in February before cooling again in March and April, which also saw quite a lot of rain. This resulted in a late harvest of a small crop of fruit, with great intensity, concentration and excellent tension – with high acidity levels retained thanks to the cooler conditions. In the Maule, the season was moderately warm, producing a more generous yield than further south but similarly high quality. The weather here was warmer in December and temperatures close to average from January through to March. Moderate rainfall in March and April refreshed the season and eased the final stage of ripening, with the fruit offering good acidity, colour and aromatic intensity. The 2022s offer an up-front richness of fruit, with good backbone of acidity – in some ways a combination of 2020 and 2021.  2021: The 2021 vintage was a cooler year – producing wines where the emphasis was on elegance, finesse and tension, perfect for the Baettig style. The winter in Malleco was rainy, with 650mm of water over June and July, laying the groundwork for a good budbreak. Spring was dry and reasonably warm, although a late frost in September reduced yields. Summer was cool, with some rain over December and January (90 mm in total across the two months), allowing the fruit to ripen slowly ahead of a late harvest, developing great aromatic complexity and preserving the acidity levels. These should age particularly well.  2020: This was a warmer year versus 2021, producing richer-styled wines. There was plenty of rain in June and July, however this dried up in August, with little rain for the rest of the growing season. Temperatures rose and the hot, dry conditions allowed the grapes to ripen easily, although an early harvest was key to preserve freshness and tension to complement their natural intensity and generosity. Offering a little more flesh, particularly at this more youthful stage, versus the 2021s, the 2020s are juicy and open, yet with everything in balance. The one we’d pick for drinking now, although there is certainly no rush here.  2016: A rainy winter led on to a cool and rainy spring, with later-than-normal flowering and fruit set and a small crop. Summer was dry and largely warm, and the fruit was harvested early, producing wines that combine refreshing acidity and good density of fruit. The 2016 Los Primos Pinot Noir and Chardonnay were never released, the tiny volumes of Baettig’s first crop, so it was a real treat to taste these special bottles, offering a glimpse of the wines’ ageing potential – with both drinking beautifully.  The vertical: tasting Baettig Chardonnay 2022 Vino de Viñedo Los Parientes Chardonnay: This was really showing well, even though it has only just been released. It’s tight, full of energy, with a punch of minerality, bright taut citrus and crisp green apple. It’s lean and sleek, but with a fleshy, juiciness that makes it hard to resist now. A wine that’s singing. Aged for eight months in 15% new oak. Production: 7,254 bottles  2021 Vino de Viñedo Los Parientes Chardonnay: There’s a lick of lime curd on the nose here, with tightly wound greengage emerging with air. It’s pure and linear, driven with its intense, stony purity, but there’s a pleasing fatness to the fruit behind, with a mouth-wateringly juicy finish and long, saline tang to the finish. Aged for 10 months in only used oak. Production: 16,909 bottles  2020 Vino de Viñedo Los Parientes Chardonnay: The warmth of the 2020 vintage, combined with the cool climate of Traiguén and Baettig’s trademark flinty, lean style, has created a gorgeous Los Parientes in 2020. Now with a few years in bottle, it’s drinking beautifully. The wine remains taut – dominated by vibrant citrus that drives through its core, and the bright acidity brings incredible tension. Yet, there’s also a softness to the wine, with a suppleness to the palate and its ample riper stone fruit that flawlessly complements the mouthwatering zest of the long finish. Punches well above its weight. Aged for 10 months in 10% new oak. Production: 15,240 bottles  2021 Selección de Parcelas Los Primos Chardonnay: The 2021 Los Primos is incredibly impressive – and the step up from Los Parientes clear. There’s a creamy, lactic note on the nose, working alongside lemon curd, honeysuckle and bright citrus and green fruit. There’s a lushness to the fruit, with gorgeous length and energy, outstanding tension and an everlasting finish, with stony, saline minerality that lingers long after the wine is gone. You can drink this now, but it will be even better if you can give it a couple of years in bottle. Aged for 15 months in 35% new oak. Production: 3,480 bottles  2020 Selección de Parcelas Los Primos Chardonnay: Much more open now than the 2021, the 2020 Los Primos is rich and concentrated, with riper white peach fruit and honeyed complexity. There’s a softness to the wine, reminiscent of the suppleness of the 2020 Los Parientes, but additional depth here. It’s round and enticing, still with a backbone of taut acidity, and a long finish with just a touch of oak spice. Hard to resist now, drink this over the next five years. Aged for 15 months in 38% new oak. Production: 4,069 bottles  2016 Selección de Parcelas Los Primos Chardonnay: The first vintage of Selección de Parcelas, with the very first fruit from the Baettig vines, and never released. The 2016 is showing some beautiful development, with honey, sweeter plump peach and nutty complexity. Cooked apple and dried mango sit alongside a zing of limey citrus, with a line of bright acidity that runs through the palate and brings lovely energy. Gorgeous. Aged for 16 months in only used oak. Production: 2,160 bottles  Pinot Noir  2022 Vino de Viñedo Los Parientes Pinot Noir: There is 10% whole-bunch in this vintage, and combined with the youth of the wine, it is shining on the nose – with overt pepper spice, floral perfume and stemmy complexity that makes it aromatically enticing. The palate is pure and bright, with juicy but concentrated mulberry and black cherry, with a saline edge and fresh, chalky purity. Incredibly moreish. Aged for eight months in 14% new oak. Production: 13,205 bottles 2021 Vino de Viñedo Los Parientes Pinot Noir: For this cooler vintage, Francisco opted to reduce the portion of whole-bunch fermentation a little. The wine is bright, crunchy and pure, with a lovely restraint from the extended growing season. Floral tones (rose, violet) sit alongside crunchy red fruit, leading to a palate of effortless purity and length. Vibrant, mouth-wateringly fresh with an earthy, saline finish and very fine tannins. Aged for 10 months in 10% new oak. Production: 13,400 bottles  2020 Vino de Viñedo Los Parientes Pinot Noir: This is in a lovely spot right now – sharing the supple texture of its Chardonnay sibling. It is beautifully elegant, with tealeaf aromatics, gentle spice and crunchy berry fruit. Structurally, it is fine-boned – the fine, chalky tannins adding a graceful outline to the mouth-watering fruit. Gloriously fresh, the finish is saline with the slightest hint of smoke. Dangerously drinkable and incredible value. Aged for 10 months in 10% new oak. Production: 15,180 bottles  2021 Selección de Parcelas Los Primos Pinot Noir: This is such a baby at the moment – and clearly needs time to reveal its full potential. It’s much more savoury than the 2020. There’s some gunflint reduction, but beneath that smoky intensity and an earthiness, alongside the subtle florals, bright redcurrant and raspberry. There’s more grip to the tannin, a tightness to the fruit, but the structure and length offer great promise. A wine of tension. Made with 20% whole-bunch fermentation, aged for 16 months in 34% new oak. Production: 3,409 bottles 2020 Selección de Parcelas Los Primos Pinot Noir: It’s immediately evident that this is Baettig’s Premier Cru – with notably more concentration and complexity. The warmer 2020 vintage produced a vibrant and intense wine, with vivid, juicy red cherry and raspberry fruit, complemented by more delicate floral notes. Alongside the impressive weight of fruit, there’s a pomegranate freshness and mineral line, with the slightest hint of smoke and spice, and a framework of superfine, supple tannins. Made with 20% whole-bunch fermentation, aged for 15 months in 38% new oak. Production: 4,102 bottles 2016 Selección de Parcelas Los Primos Pinot Noir: This was, for me, the star of the tasting. The nose was effortlessly complex, shifting between soft florals, spice, violets and crunchy red fruit, with a dried-earth note too. There was a glorious suppleness here, silken and flowing across the palate, with a fine, chalky texture to the tannin, juicy cherry and a subtle, savoury finish. Beautiful. Everything was destemmed in this vintage and the wine aged exclusively in used oak. Production: 1,440 bottles  Cabernet Sauvignon  2022 Vino de Viñedo Los Compadres Cabernet Sauvignon: This is a glorious expression of bright, modern Cabernet – pure and pristine with crunchy red and black fruit, vivid pencil shavings and an herbaceous green-pepper edge. There’s such intensity to the palate, with its tart red berry fruit, mouth-wateringly fresh and juicy. The abundant fruit is framed by graphite tannins, leading on to a spicy finish. Aged in 20% new French oak for 10 months. Production: 17,000 bottles  2022 Selección de Parcelas Los Padrinos Cabernet Sauvignon: The first vintage of Los Padrinos is only offering more since we first tasted it in February. It’s strikingly different to Los Compadres – a much darker, spicier and smokier expression. The two wines share their tension, with firm acidity that forms the backbone of this wine and drives the long finish, as well as gloriously crunchy and fresh fruit. The nose is savoury and brooding at first, but sweeter plum and cassis fruit lurks behind, while there’s a tart, bright bite to the palate. It still feels compact at this youthful stage, the power and gum-drying tannins needing time to unfurl. Aged for 15 months in 65% new French oak. Production: 1,800 bottles  Explore all current listings of Baettig or read more Editorial

Last month, we welcomed Francisco Baettig to London, guiding us through a vertical of his stunning Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and new Cabernet Sauvignon from Chile’s south. Here, we unpack the Baettig story, style and how each vintage of this exciting project is drinking right now

Tasting through a vertical of Baettig’s Chilean wines: Chardonnay and Pinot Noir from Traiguen, Malleco, and Cabernet Sauvignon from the Maule

Baettig vertical, tasting these top Chilean wines

The story so far: Baettig vertical

To Kalon. For any Californian winemaker, those two words represent the Holy Grail. This vineyard in Oakville, Napa, is undeniably the region’s most famous. Perched at the foot of the Mayacamas, west of Highway 29, this site has been recognised for producing fine wine since the 19th century. Literally translating as the “highest beauty” or “highest good” from Greek, today To Kalon is home to some of Napa’s oldest vines and best Cabernet Sauvignon. “This is a Grand Cru – a premier property,” Paul Hobbs tells me, a winemaker who has a long history with the site. As a grad student at UC Davis, Hobbs would swipe the second crop from a vineyard on Walnut Drive – what happened to be BV4, Beaulieu Vineyard’s original block of To Kalon. At Mondavi – the largest holder of the hallowed site – he got to walk the rows more legitimately, and used those holdings to build Opus One – the company’s joint venture with Ch. Mouton Rothschild (although the association with the site has generally been played down). Under his own label, he’s been making wine from the Beckstoffer section of the vineyard since 1999 – and his wines, along with those from Schrader, were some of the early bottlings that put the vineyard firmly on the fine wine map, earning high scores – and lots of attention. Indeed, it was a Paul Hobbs wine that made Tor Kenward believe the vineyard was truly special. André Tchelistcheff had spoken to Kenward about BV4, but it was one of Hobbs’s bottlings that made him realise its potential. He started working with Beckstoffer plots from 2005. 
“It’s not visually impressive; it doesn’t have that ‘wow factor’,” Kenward tells me. But start digging below the surface, and you realise that you’re in the “tenderloin of Napa”, with old creek beds that run through the site. It’s an alluvial fan that runs down from the Mayacamas, sitting almost on a bench – with very little elevation. But the soils here are varied, with deep, well-drained gravels that make it perfect for Cabernet Sauvignon.  Andy Erickson – a winemaker whose resume includes Screaming Eagle, Harlan, Dalla Valle, Mayacamas and many more – first worked with the site in 2012, on a single-barrel charity lot for an auction at his children’s school. When Constellation (owners of Mondavi and co-owners of Opus One) called him to give him the chance to work with it again in 2016, he didn’t hesitate. That year, he made the first wine for the To Kalon Vineyard Company – a project that is a revival of the brand created by H.W. Crabb (known variously as Henry Walker, Hiram Walker or Hamilton Walker Crabb) in 1886, the vineyard’s godfather. “Most people know the recent history of the vineyard, and the acclaim of the wines from the past 15-20 years. But the vineyard was known for producing remarkable wines all the way back in the late 19th century. Clearly there is something there,” Erickson says.  But this vineyard is weighed down with controversy – its borders endlessly debated, with producers vying for use of the To Kalon name.  The history of the To Kalon Vineyard It’s impossible to look at To Kalon today without tracing its origins. H.W. Crabb came west from Ohio during the Gold Rush, spending six months digging in the Sierras before settling in Oakville in 1868, buying 240 acres of land at the corner of Highway 29 and Walnut Drive. He planted a wide range of crops, first making wine in 1872 under the name Hermosa Vineyards (“hermosa” meaning “beautiful” in Spanish). In 1881, he acquired another 119 acres from Eliza Yount (whose name lives on in Yountville). On land to the west of his plots, owned by John Davis, he planted additional vines – buying the fruit off Davis to feed his increasing production. In 1886, he gave his company a new name: “To Kalon Vineyard Company” – and the legend was born. Crabb reportedly said, “The name To-Kalon… means the highest beauty, or the highest good, but I try to make it mean the boss vineyard.”
 To Kalon Vineyard Company rapidly became one of the region’s largest – and most well-respected – wine producers. His wines started winning awards at competitions around the world, and he was the first to start selling wine along the East Coast. He had planted a huge range of grapes – around 400 different varieties, including Malvasia, Riesling, Chasselas, Muscat, Refosco and Cabernet Sauvignon, with the latter in particular thriving. In 1889, he bought 168 acres on the hillside to the south, close to where Harlan is now based, although it was never planted with vines during Crabb’s lifetime. In 1891, Crabb bought Davis’s 135 acres (from which he’d already been buying the fruit). In total, Crabb had more than 359 acres.  But his success wasn’t to last – phylloxera arrived in the late 19th century, and recession along with it. In 1898, Crabb sold the 135 acres he’d bought just eight years earlier – and died one year later in 1899. The vines were ripped out, replaced by cherry trees under David Perry Doak in 1911, who in turn purchased another 500 acres of vines from John Benson, south of the border of the original To Kalon (across Oakville Grade Road), which is now all owned by Constellation (used for Mondavi or Opus One). After Crabb’s death, what remained of the To Kalon Vineyard Company was sold to ES Churchill at auction, taken over by his widow Mary Churchill when he died in 1903. Wines continued to be sold under the label until the arrival of Prohibition in 1920. The winery reopened briefly to sell wine in bulk in the 1930s, but the winery building burnt down in 1939. Four years later, Martin Stelling bought most of the property – 337 acres – and replanted. He sold 90 acres to Beaulieu Vineyard (the block that became known as BV4 – and was the plot used by André Tschelistcheff made Georges de Latour Reserve). In 1944, Stelling bought an additional 1,700 acres – the McGill Ranch, which included the parcels owned by Doak (both Crabb’s 1891 parcel and the 500 acres area south of Oakville Grade Road). He named the entire property Tokalon Vineyards, and in 1945 planted Sauvignon Blanc in I Block – the legendary parcel that is today used for Mondavi’s prized, old-vine To Kalon Fumé Blanc.  Tragedy struck again, however, with Stelling killed in a car crash in 1950. The property was once more divided, sold off in pieces by his widow.   
Rosa Mondavi, along with her sons Robert and Peter, purchased 132 hectares in 1962 for the family winery, Charles Krug. After Robert struck out on his own, he bought 12 acres for himself in 1966 (that remained in the Stelling family) – in the northeast corner of the 1968 Crabb parcel, where the Mondavi winery and visitor centre remains today. He bought a further 230 acres in 1968, and then took the Charles Krug section from the rest of his family in 1978. The first time the To Kalon name appeared on a Mondavi label – and the first time since the demise of the To Kalon Vineyard Company – was on the 1986 Fumé Blanc Reserve. The I Block – the Sauvignon Blanc vines planted by Stelling in 1945 – were singled out for the first time in 1995, for the vines’ 50th anniversary. The first red – Mondavi’s To Kalon Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon – appeared with the 1997 vintage. The To Kalon Vineyard’s terroir As already mentioned, To Kalon is largely an alluvial fan that stretches down from the Mayacamas to Highway 29. It is, however, a large piece of land (the exact area depending on where you draw its borders – see below for more on the controversy around this) – and as such the terroir varies considerably. The soils are richer downslope, closer to the Highway; poorer and better-drained higher up (where many – including Hobbs and Kenward – prefer to be). The gravel composition varies with the subtle slope differences and underground water.  “It’s like any cut of meat – there are better parts than others,” Hobbs says. With over 300 original acres (at least), this is a substantial vineyard (for comparison, Clos Vougeot is 125 acres). “It’s great if you have the name To Kalon, but could be pretty average stuff.” The Beckstoffer section is numbered and lettered: A to F, from road to mountain, with A1 south of A2. For Hobbs, he likes the blocks closer to the mountains, and those that aren’t shaded by the huge walnut trees that line Walnut Drive (to the south). Hobbs noted how much warmer Oakville is than Yountville – something he used to notice when driving in the evening home from Oakville to Yountville. The mountains block the sea breezes, meaning that the cooling effect happens, but more slowly. This is partly what makes it such a special place. Tor Kenward similarly prefers some of the middle blocks in B and C, where there are some of the vineyard’s oldest vines, but with lower vigour, as well as the leaner soils closest to the mountains. As for the MacDonald or Horton block: “You could argue it’s every bit as good as Andy’s piece,” Kenward says. It, along with the Detert block, was planted in the 1940s – and in fact those two blocks are now home to some of the valley’s oldest vines. Even closer to the mountains, the gravel content is even higher, and the fruit is picked up to a month earlier than elsewhere in To Kalon. Although until now most of that fruit has been sold to Constellation, there will be opportunity for others to work with it as that contract comes to an end.   
The Beckstoffer plots of To Kalon Andy Beckstoffer bought Beaulieu Vineyard’s block, BV4, in 1993. He’d just lost a prized site – Liparita, on Howell Mountain – when the 89 acres of BV4 came up. He’d worked the site for years and leapt at the opportunity to buy it. “It’s a mystery to me why they sold it,” Paul Hobbs told me, although word on the grapevine was that they needed to liquidate funds – indeed, it was around the same time that Mondavi went public for similar reasons. Phylloxera was once more raging through the region thanks to the widely used, non-resistant AXR rootstock.  The BV4 block was in bad shape when Beckstoffer took it over and he had to replant the entire site. Paul Hobbs was one of the first to use fruit from Beckstoffer’s plots, starting to work with him from 1995/96. “Andy didn’t really realise he had a Grand Cru property,” Hobbs says. Hobbs was given free rein to pick his plots, opting for four or five plots on the western side, furthest from Highway 29. The vineyard produced its first fruit in 1997; 1998 was a difficult year; but in 1999 Hobbs was able to produce his first To Kalon bottling (although it couldn’t say so on the label). “I was loathe to tell people how young it was – but the quality was so good,” Hobbs says, still starry eyed thinking about it. “It was only four years old, but producing stunning wines.” Most fruit is sold on its weight, by the ton, but Andy Beckstoffer created a different model – one that is intricately tied to the vineyard’s name and reputation – and arguably has increased its reputation. Producers who use his fruit pay him 175 times the bottle price per ton, with a ceiling at $50,000/ton; tying the value of the fruit to the value of the final wine. “For producers like me in those days, when I didn’t have the land or ability to buy land, Andy was a saviour of sorts,” Hobbs tells me. “Because I had access to one of the top vineyards in all of Napa. I had to pay – but at least I had access.”
  The To Kalon controversy: how big is it? And is it a brand or a place? Mondavi trademarked the name “To Kalon” in 1988, and “To Kalon Vineyard” in 1994. This gave them the right to use the name on any wine from anywhere – even beyond California – and meant that no one else could use the name, even if they had plots in what was considered the original To Kalon vineyard. The first Beckstoffer bottlings only mentioned the name on the back label; but in 2000, Schrader decided to put it on the front label. The now famous lawsuit commenced. “They shouldn’t have been able to trademark it,” Hobbs tells me. “Anyone from the original To Kalon estate should have the right to the trademark as well.” In 2002, Mondavi sued Schrader for using the name on their Beckstoffer bottling. Countersuing ensued, from both Schrader and Beckstoffer (the latter arguing that Mondavi was misleading clients by using the name for wines made with fruit from beyond the vineyard’s original borders). A settlement – the details of which remain a mystery – was made in 2003, but wines made from the Beckstoffer section can now bear the name “Beckstoffer To Kalon”.  Constellation bought Mondavi in 2004, and then Schrader in 2017. Reportedly attempts were made to trademark “To Kalon Wine Company”, “To Kalon Vineyard Company” and “Rooted in To Kalon” – something, unsurprisingly, that Beckstoffer objected to. The legal battle continues today, with a fight over the naming of To Kalon Creek, and The Vineyard House – owned by Jeremy Nickel, which sits on the 1889 hillside section – arguing for the use of the name as well.  The borders of the vineyard are a constant source of debate – and given the history above, you can see why.  Andy Beckstoffer considers the original To Kalon to be only the parcels bought by Crabb in 1868 and 1881. The 1889 parcel was never planted by Crabb, so most aren’t inclined to include it as “original To Kalon”. The Detert and MacDonald plots, however, aren’t acknowledged by Beckstoffer, but were planted – and, albeit more briefly than other plots, owned by Crabb. Then there’s the “Stelling extension”, the southern section added after Crabb’s death under Martin Stelling, that Mondavi considers part of the original vineyard, but some others do not. Given the sums fruit – and wine – bearing the To Kalon name command, it’s unsurprising that its usage is so disputed.  
To Kalon: what does the wine taste like?  So what makes the wine so special? Why do winemakers fight for the fruit, and consumers for the bottles they produce? Despite the sheer variety of the site, Tor Kenward is adamant that there’s a continuity, with a profile that that site gives Cabernet. He describes it as “wall-to-wall carpeting”, a plushness to the mid-palate, a softness, that means the Cabernet isn’t hard-edged. “There’s something about the ground there,” Andy Erickson agrees. For him, To Kalon has a distinct tannin texture – not as rugged as hillside sites, but richer, with a generosity in the wines. “They are dark, aromatic, but very broad and polished,” he says. “I think the vineyard brings forward many of the complexities of Cabernet Sauvignon, but delivers it in a very approachable and elegant package.” “It’s very identifiable,” Paul Hobbs says. “It’s a structural and textural thing mostly. It’s a freshness to this sort of tannin. It has grip, but it has this uplifting character.” He explains it like a skipping stone – you think you’ve got it, then another wave comes, the wine shifting on the palate. For him, one of the most distinctive things is that Cabernet sings alone here – much better than blended with other varietals. “It didn’t need the help of its brothers,” he says. “It’s a wine that’s at peace with itself… It doesn’t shock you, except in its beauty.”
 Who owns what today in To Kalon? Robert Mondavi: From the original 12 acres, Mondavi now owns 328 acres of To Kalon, including the Stelling extension. Has the rights to use the To Kalon name.  Opus One: The 35-acre Q Block was sold to the joint venture by Mondavi in 1981, with K block acquired in 2008. Although under Constellation’s ownership they could likely use the To Kalon name, Opus One doesn’t trade on this. (To Kalon Vineyard Company uses fruit from Constellation’s holdings, both Opus One and Mondavi plots.) UC Davis: a research block that was key in developing phylloxera-resistant rootstock
Beckstoffer: 89 acres, with fruit sold to a range of producers (currently 23), including Paul Hobbs, Tor Kenward and Schrader. Producers can use the name “Beckstoffer To Kalon” on their labels. MacDonald (sometimes referenced as Horton): Graeme and Alex MacDonald are the current generation, owning 21 acres of the 1891 parcel. When their great-grandparents bought the site in 1954 (along with the Detert plot – see below – from Caroline Stelling, Martin Stelling’s widow) it was planted with cherry trees. Advised by Robert Mondavi, the MacDonalds planted vines. From 1966, they sold grapes to Mondavi – holding some back for personal use from 2004, with the first MacDonald commercial release in 2010 (just 92 cases). Although historically 75% of production here has been sold to Mondavi, I’m led to believe that the contract is coming to a close and won’t be renewed. The MacDonalds can’t use the To Kalon name on their wines currently. Detert: Today owned by Tom Garrett, a cousin of the MacDonalds. This 25-acre plot was bought in 1954, along with the MacDonald parcel – divided between the buyers’ children giving the two plots today. There’s more Cabernet Franc in this section. Most of the fruit is sold to Mondavi (with the contract, as for MacDonald, coming to an end soon), and Detert can’t use the To Kalon name on their wines. The Vineyard House: Many dispute whether or not this is original To Kalon; it’s on the hillside area purchased (but not planted) by Crabb in 1891. This plot is owned by Jeremy Justin Nickel, who is the son of the late Far Niente proprietor Gil Nickel. It’s thought to have first been planted with vines in 1980. They can’t use the To Kalon name on their wines, but have taken court action over the issue.  Wineries with To Kalon bottlings  NB Not all of these will bear the To Kalon name on the label Mondavi Winery, Opus One, To Kalon Vineyard Company, MacDonald, Detert, Alpha Omega, Amici, Alejandro Bulgheroni Estate, AXR, Bacio Divino, B Cellars, Boich Family, Bounty Hunter, Cain Concept, Carter cellars, Ch Boswell, Jacquelynn, Kitchak, Cliff Lede, Morlet, Realm Cellars, Tor Kenward, Paul Hobbs, Schrader Cellars Read more Editorial 

The Napa Valley has many incredible vineyards, but To Kalon undoubtedly sits at the top of the tree. As the To Kalon Vineyard Company releases their latest vintage, Sophie Thorpe delves into the story of this iconic site – from its 19th century origins to the fight to use its hallowed name

Explore the history of To Kalon vineyard – and what makes it such an iconic site today. We spoke to Andy Erickson, Paul Hobbs and Tor Kenward to find out more

The tale of Napa’s iconic To Kalon vineyard

The tale of To Kalon

Last year Colgin celebrated its 30th harvest. In a relatively short time, this Napa estate has become one of the most successful wineries in the region, if not the world. Its three single-vineyard wines – Cariad, Tychson Hill and IX Estate – regularly receive 99-100 points scores across the board, establishing it as one of the region’s cult Cabernet estates that has put Napa on the international fine wine map. Despite its international repute, however, Paul Roberts – Master Sommelier and Colgin’s COO – believes the estate, and Napa Valley as a whole, is still only just starting to tell its story. Napa, more than anywhere else, has been massively influenced by wine critics’ scores. While there is much fanfare over being awarded a perfect 100 points, these headline-grabbing scores have distracted from the actual reasons why this hugely heterogeneous region can produce such great wines, and that the wines themselves are distinctly varied, both in style and flavour profile. For some collectors, if a wine from Napa doesn’t have a 99 or 100-point score then they aren’t interested; however more engaged collectors are starting to identify the nuances within the region and are eager to learn more. Roberts has noticed this first-hand. “[People] don’t want to rely only on a score for guidance but instead begin to look for reasons why they really like these wines from Pritchard Hill, for instance… this is an evolution.” It reminds Roberts of a conversation he had with Dominique Lafon (Domaine des Comtes Lafon) when visiting Burgundy. Lafon said to Roberts, “When Domaine Faiveley sued Robert Parker in 1993, it was the best thing that could have happened to Burgundy. Parker left Burgundy and no other critic at the time had the influence like he did.” Lafon felt that it forced the wineries in Burgundy to focus on the story behind their wine – the characteristics of each vineyard – instead of a score. “This has to be the next evolution in understanding the great wines and the great terroirs of Napa,” says Roberts.  While Roberts emphasises that Colgin doesn’t trade on its scores, it is fortunate to have them. “But Napa is about a place – and we need to talk about this more,” he says. “The place is going to outlive you, me, Robert Parker, Lisa Perrotti-Brown, Antonio Galloni, all of us will be dead and gone, but the land abides. The place will hopefully begin to take on its own unique story, just in the same way you think Romanée-Saint-Vivant is different to Richebourg.” Tasting Colgin with Roberts, you quickly realise that for him tannins (their shape, intensity and mouthfeel) are an important aspect of understanding Napa’s different terroirs, as well as what really sets Napa apart from other Cabernet-growing regions around the world. Firstly, there’s the sheer volume of tannins. Top Napa Cabernets have higher skin-to-juice ratios than even the First Growths, notes Roberts, and therefore much more “antioxidant” tannins than their Bordeaux counterparts, vital for long ageing and development in bottle. Colgin’s mountainside IX Estate vineyard on Pritchard Hill produces berries that are, on average, 30% smaller than those grown in Pauillac and, to Roberts, have a completely different tannin profile. “While we love and enjoy drinking Bordeaux wines,” says Roberts, “Napa shoots itself in the foot every time we keep comparing our wines to Bordeaux. The climate, the terroir, the soils, they are just completely different.” When asked to describe the differences between the various regions within Napa, Roberts wants the tannins to guide you. While the reality is more nuanced, generally Roberts finds that the further south you are, the more elegant the tannin profile. In the south it is slightly cooler, something further exaggerated by the elevation. The northern part of the valley, however, produces “exotic, fleshy, powerful wines”. He finds that the mountain appellations – Spring Mountain, Howell Mountain and Diamond Mountain – produce powerful, dense, tannic, structured wines.  
Today Napa wines are often divided into those from the valley floor and those from mountain sites. While this binary division is one way to approach the geographical distinctions within Napa, but it is, Roberts feels, overly simplistic. Most importantly, it doesn’t allow for wines that are neither valley floor or mountain – the hillside vineyards, such as Colgin. 
Napa’s climate is influenced heavily by marine fog. Every day during the growing season, a layer of fog forms over the vineyards. Valley floor vineyards sit below the fog line and are protected from the full daytime power of the sun, moderating the climate. Mountain sites are above the fog line and are therefore constantly exposed to the California sunshine, which, according to Roberts, produces “a different berry structure” to the grapes on the valley floor. “The berries are smaller and have much thicker skins, very different tannins and much later picking cycles, since the mountain appellations are cooler due to elevation,” he explains.

“This cloud layer, that determines whether you are in a valley floor appellation, or a mountain appellation, tops off around 1,400 feet,” says Roberts. “ Howell Mountain’s vineyards starts at 1,400 feet; Diamond Mountain – most properties sit between 1,600-2,600 feet; Spring Mountain have some vineyards at 3,000 feet.” These then sit comfortably above the fog line and are rightly classified as mountain appellation wines. But Colgin, along with some others, Roberts believes, are wrongly considered mountain wines.

Colgin’s vineyards sit between 300 and 1,400 feet, and remain in or below the fog line. So, in some ways, they are similar to the valley floor, but, because they are on a hillside, they benefit from what Roberts calls “the devigourating nature of a hillside rocky soil”. These hillside vineyards have their own distinct climatic and geological influence – that doesn’t fit with mountain terroir or valley floor, but shares elements of both. For Roberts, Colgin’s vineyards are better described as a mid-slope hillside appellation, and it finds itself in good company.  
“If you look back at the time when we released our first vintage,” says Roberts, “we were labelled among a number of wineries as one of the cult Cabernet estates. Harlan Estate, Bryant Estate, Eisele Vineyards and ourselves – you look, and all of them are planted on mid-slope hillsides." Screaming Eagle (another cult Cabernet estate), Roberts admits, is strictly valley floor, but it is still on a slope. “A lot of people at the time said you are not going to be able to get Cabernet ripe and it’s too hard to plant in the rocky soils on these mid-slopes,” says Roberts. “But now this is where you see a lot of the great estates are situated.” “Even if you look at a famous vineyard like To Kalon,” says Roberts, “it is roughly the same size as Clos Vougeot. We all know Clos Vougeot is a Grand Cru, but within the vineyard it has some Grand Cru quality terroir, some not so good Premier Cru quality and even some village quality terroir, all within the same delineated boundary. Well, To Kalon is the same. If you get close to the road (Highway 29), it is a totally different style of wine than if you are further back on the toe of the hill where there is deeper gravel. That to me is like the Grand Cru part of To Kalon and that part, like Screaming Eagle, is on a slope, and behaves closer to a mid-slope hillside appellation than valley floor.”  The great advantage of these mid-slope hillside appellations, according to Roberts, is not only better drainage and the natural devigouration of the rocky soils, but a different ripening cycle. Because the soils are that much drier, they warm up quicker at the beginning of the season, pushing the hillside vineyards to bud earlier and to ripen more quickly than those on the valley floor and in the mountain appellations. This helps them avoid the late season rain that can disrupt a vintage. The result, therefore, is much more consistency year to year. Roberts notes that more and more producers are realising the virtues of the Napa hillsides, with the likes of Tim Mondavi now planting on Pritchard Hill. Despite demand for these hillside plots, which have proven their potential, Roberts doesn’t expect to see the “appellation” expand much more. Regulation and restrictions from California’s Land Use Law prevents any new plantings on Napa’s hillsides, preserving key natural habitats. And that might be no bad thing, since the residential properties being developed in the region and their ornamental plantings of lavender and rosemary, Roberts argues, pose a huge fire risk for the region. California faces a tumultuous future. As aquafers dry up and fires rage around the state, California sometimes feels like a perilous place that needs protecting. Colgin know the dangers only too well. On 17th August 2020, a freak storm hit California. The state saw 10,000 lightning strikes in 24 hours. One of the two huge fires that the storm caused started directly opposite Colgin’s vineyards. “Within four hours, we were in an evacuation zone,” says Roberts. “The fire couldn’t be put out by a fire crew because it was on such a steep hillside, they couldn’t get to it. All air assets had been deployed to southern California, since that is where they thought the storm would hit.” Fortunately, vineyards act as firebreaks and Colgin’s vineyards were saved – although they didn’t make any wine in 2020 because of the smoke damage. Such a close call has Roberts and his team doing everything they can to minimise the risks. A massive amount of brush clearing, putting in fire roads as well as bringing in new technology to minimize the risks. At the top of Colgin’s vineyards, Roberts recently approved a heat camera that can sense and detect the emergence of a fire, allowing them to deploy helicopters and put fires out early, before they have a chance to spread.

While these issues have become a day-to-day concern in the region, Roberts is confident Napa is turning a page in its history. If you look beyond the headlines of high scores and wildfires, Napa’s vineyards and varied terroir are starting to find a voice – and that’s where the real story is. Your guide to Colgin’s three single vineyards: IX Estate, Tychson Hill and Cariad While Colgin’s three single vineyards all share mid-slope hillside positioning and the climatic benefits this brings, the sites produce three very different styles of Cabernet, due to their different soils and microclimates. IX Estate IX Estate is an 8.07-hectare vineyard situated on Pritchard Hill overlooking Lake Henessey at an altitude of between 1,100 and 1,400 feet. The IX Estate vineyard’s bedrock is made up of old lava flow, full of iron. The soil looks red, dotted with large volcanic boulders. According to Colgin’s COO Paul Roberts MS, the iron component gives an almost sanguine nature to the tannins. “There are lots of them, but they are very, very fine,” says Roberts. “Then there is an almost bloody note – not as much as in the Northern Rhône – not full blood – not that extreme, but more mouth-watering, not from the acidity but from the flavour/nature of the tannins.” The wines from IX Estate have a distinct red fruit profile on the palate which is a classic element of this part of Napa. The wild flora and fauna around the vineyard, to Roberts, “add an almost herb component, as close as you get to garrigue in the south of France – thyme, rosemary, wild sage.” Tychson Hill Tychson Hill is an historic vineyard site, first planted in the 19th century. The vines were pulled out during prohibition, with the site only replanted by Anne Colgin in the mid-1990s. The vineyard is north of the town of St Helena at an altitude of 300-422 feet. In total 2.42 hectares are planted to vines. The bedrock is also volcanic, but with a very different volcanic origin to IX Estate, with a mix of gravel and obsidian black stone (a black volcanic glass). According to Roberts, the wines from Tchyson Hill has less tannin than IX Estate and they are rounder, without the edges you get in IX Estate. “The tannin quality of the wine begins to emulate the shape of the stones you find in the vineyard,” says Roberts. “Tychson Hill is a much older material – so a finer quality of tannin.” The diurnal shift at Tychson Hill also has a distinct effect on the wines, with a shift of up to 9-10˚C – which provides much more aromatics and more red fruit character. “The climate can fully volatilise and metabolize tannins,” says Roberts, “so they appear much softer.” It is also, he believes, Colgin’s most approachable wine in its youth. Cariad Cariad is a steeper vineyard site, 3.2 hectares in the western hills of St Helena at an altitude of 400-500 feet. The vines are grown on what is an uplifted, old gravel riverbed. The tannins, according to Roberts, are “more spherical because of the rounded stones in the vineyard”. The fruit is more purple in character. Earlier vintages of Cariad were a Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot blend that typically was the slowest maturing of the three, needing the longest time for the tannins to fully integrate, but today much of the Merlot has been replaced with Cabernet Franc, which Roberts believes brings a much “fleshier beauty” early on in its maturity. Browse all Colgin listings or read more editorial

Napa’s finest wines receive stratospheric scores – but there’s much more to the region’s story. Gavin Smith talks to Master Sommelier and Colgin COO about why it’s time to stop focusing on critical acclaim and let Napa’s vineyards speak for themselves

Exploring how Napa’s vineyards are finding their voice with a spotlight on Colgin’s three single vineyards: IX Estate, Tychson Hill and Cariad

Exploring a new chapter for Napa

A new chapter for Napa

Getting to taste a vertical of any one wine is undoubtedly the best way to understand it. It provides that rare opportunity to see how well each wine has evolved, how each vintage was shaped by its growing season and whether the wine’s character and personality remains a constant throughout. But these 14 vintages of Colore – spanning the first 20 years of its existence – are as much about Bibi Graetz’s own evolution as that of the wines.  Over the last two decades there has been a dramatic change in the production of Colore – one that mirrors Bibi Graetz’s journey of discovery in winemaking and viticulture, having started as a complete amateur. From 2000 to the most recent vintage (2018), the wine has completely transformed in both where it is grown and how it is made.   As Graetz says, the concept behind Colore never changed. “I wanted to make the best wine possible. All that changed was how! In the past I thought the best grapes had to be the most powerful. We were green harvesting in the vineyard – getting the production as low as possible, we were bleeding off juice in the winery to increase the concentration, we were using new oak to bring more body, intensity, power.”  In complete contrast, today there is no green harvest in the vineyards: Graetz doesn’t even hedge the vines, preferring them to find their own balance. There is no more bleeding off, with Graetz believing a natural balance is more important than a higher level of tannins. There is no new oak anymore – just old barrels, large foudres of various sizes and cement tanks for maturing the wine. At the beginning, Graetz worked with a consultant, but as he took on more of the winemaking himself (from 2004 onwards), each experiment saw the wine style and production change, based on his own experiments and intuition.  One thing has remained consistent throughout: the unusual method of fermenting the wine in barrel. With Graetz’s commitment that Colore should be made with only the very best grapes, quantities were so small, a normal fermenting vat would not work. “My winemaker at the time came up with the idea – he said simply open up a barrique and ferment the grapes in them. Winemakers in California and South Africa were already doing these micro cuvées very successfully and I thought why not?” Graetz feels this is key to Colore’s style – exposing the must to lots of oxygen, integrating the oak with the tannins better, and with the smaller size leading to a different temperature range during fermentation.   While most of these changes were gradual, perhaps the biggest turning point for Colore came in 2008 with the discovery of the Lamole vineyard. Graetz’s focus has always been on sourcing grapes from Tuscany’s oldest vines and this vineyard – sitting at some of the highest altitudes in Chianti Classico – was to have a profound effect on the wine. The fruit from this special site rapidly started to dominate the blend. Prior to 2008, Colore sat alongside Bibi Graetz’s other prestige cuvée Testamatta – two wines of equal status exploring two different concepts, with Testamatta pure Sangiovese and Colore, a blend of the three red Tuscan grapes (Sangiovese, Colorino and Canaiolo). Graetz knew there was something special about the 2008 vintage, particularly with the introduction of the Lamole vineyard. Graetz decided to choose only the very best barrels for Colore, making production very limited and pitching it above Testamatta. The first vintage of the new Colore, 2008, sent the critics wild – and the price too.  For Graetz personally, the 2009 vintage marks another significant change, with a shift from power to elegance. The 2009 vintage was very difficult in Tuscany – making it difficult to get any concentration, something that Graetz was originally worried about. “But when I made the wine, the response was one of universal approval. It was lighter, more elegant and I saw the value in that.”   Tasting through vintages back to 2000, the 2008 remains the stand-out wine of the line-up and, whatever changes happened in the winery, you feel the 2009 difficult vintage conditions didn’t capture the magic and personality that the 2008 exudes. This is just one pair in the line-up that proves that vintage remains at the heart of a wine, no matter the changes in the wine cellar. The 2010 for example tells of its low yields, needing time to fully unfurl. Similarly, the more difficult 2011 and ’12 vintages show much more maturity than the ’10, ’08 or ’06.   The modern vintages become much more consistent – and, although still very youthful, you feel Graetz found his feet in terms of what he wants Colore to be. There is both elegance and natural power in these beautiful renditions of Sangiovese. The switch in style from the early vintages is remarkable. The 2005, 2004 and 2003 in particular are much more “international” in style. They are perfectly well-made monoliths, but don’t exude the personality of more recent vintages.   While today the 2008 remains the finest expression to date, you can’t help feel that many of the younger vintages could – with maturity – match it. As the vintages progress, Colore becomes ever more elegant, reflecting Graetz’s changing philosophy. Graetz’s evolution as a winemaker shines through in these wines, but the transparency that comes with that evolution – allowing the fruit to speak more clearly of a time and a place – that is the narrative. The resulting wines have as much personality as their maker.  Tasting through two decades of Bibi Graetz’s Colore  2018 Colore: The 2018 has a translucent ruby colour and a light floral perfume with pure, very compacted aromas of pot-pourri and red aniseed. Medium bodied, the tannins are fully ripe, resolved and beautifully silky for Sangiovese, bringing an effortless structure to the wine. Warming, ripe black cherry fruit fills the palate and sustains a long finish. Drink 2028-2045.  2016 Colore: With two years more in bottle, the 2016 is much more expressive than the 2018. Dried tobacco, rose talc, geranium, even a touch of cumin brings lovely floral complexity to the aromas. The tannins are that much more integrated and meld around a good core of fruit – with solid black cherry fruit flavours and dark chocolate notes. There is an overriding florality to the wine, adding further complexity to this beautifully balanced rendition. Drink 2026-2041.  2015 Colore: The 2015 is less expressive today than the 2016, which is somewhat surprising since you would expect the 2015 to be more open. There are darker elements to this wine, dominated for now by fragrant aniseed and dark chocolate aromas. The palate is silky soft with lovely, resolved tannins. It has compacted, concentrated fruit with an impressive density to the mid palate. Again, a solid core of fruit at its centre, melded with layered, detailed tannins. This will blossom but needs time. Drink 2025-2040.  2012 Colore: There is a huge difference contrasting 2012 and 2015, with three more years in bottle, heightened no doubt by the cooler vintage conditions. The wine in itself is in a lovely stage of evolution, with tertiary, savoury, maturing elements intertwined with more primary, floral and black plum fruit. The tannins are noticeably softer on the palate, less overtly present in dictating the wine’s character. This is both fresh and funky and with a touch of tertiary leather too. This is drinking beautifully now. Drink 2021-2028.  2011 Colore: Similar to the 2012 there are some noticeable maturing elements to the wine, providing a lovely complexity both to its aromas and palate. While the fruit character is less plush, the wine has a fantastic vibrancy and firmer acidity. Earthy, savoury tones and a touch of bloody iodine gives good typicity to the region, the variety and the vintage. Drink 2021-2030.  2010 Colore: The 2010 is incredibly youthful compared to the 2011 and 2012, showing how arguably vintage conditions play a significant role in the wine’s ageing ability. Yields were significantly down in 2010 and this shows in this dense rendition. The wine, similarly to 2015 is a little closed right now offering hints of iodine and earthy, black cherry fruit. Tasting the next day, the wine is much more open, the tannins are incredibly concentrated and there is amazing acidity too. The fruit on the palate is very pure. This is powerful and will no doubt mellow beautifully with age. Drink 2025-2035.  2009 Colore: Very developed on the nose, so much so that this bottle may not have been in perfect condition. The wine comes across a little oxidised with black liquorice aromas and light acetate notes. Fruit is ripe and slightly raisined, it seems almost later picked than other vintages and certainly more developed than older vintages.  2008 Colore: The wine of the line-up. This is an exceptional wine, firmly in its drinking window but with bracing acidity that offers plenty of life ahead. There are lovely tertiary notes, while also remaining fragrant and clean on the nose. The palate is very fresh with fine, silk-coated tannins providing a lovely breadth to the palate. This is so elegant and yet so rich; very Italian in style with dried floral lift, liquorice spice and bountiful black cherry fruit. Drink 2021-2030.  2007 Colore: The 2007 has a very complex nose with dry spice, aniseed, cured meats and a touch of blue cheese. This funkiness dissipates with air becoming more integrated and all the better for it. The palate remains very silky with maturing cherry fruit, pickling juices and figs. The acidity and tannins are totally melded to the fruit, providing an excellent textural quality to the wine, with a spicy chili finish. Drink 2021-2025.  2006 Colore: This wine shows very little sign of age, maturing at a snail’s pace. It retains a lovely Italian identity with vibrant acidity, cherry fruit and liquorice notes. There is almost no tertiary character to this wine, possibly another nod to the exceptional vintage conditions? The fruit is very concentrated, clean, and surprisingly youthful in character. I would love to explore this again with more maturity. Drink 2022-2030.  2005 Colore: Still quite youthful but lacks the perfumed fruit of younger vintages. Very ripe fruit with additional dry oak spices on the nose. The wine has a fine texture, layered tannins and more oak influence on the palate. Not so obviously Italian and more “international” in its style. Drink 2021-2026.  2004 Colore: Similar to the 2005, the wine has a lot of ripeness and intensity as well as spicy notes. More expressive than the 2005, there is a floral lift too. Tannins are a little less pleasing – slightly blocky in character and the fruit is quite ripe, bordering on raisined in character. The dried fruits developing possibly from age, although lacks the personality of some of the younger vintages. Drink 2021-2025.  2003 Colore: The 2003 was perhaps the most disappointing wine in the line-up and quite closed down. Graetz thought the wine was slightly oxidized. There was bitter chocolate on the nose, but the tannins were silky and beautifully melded and the acidity is well balanced. Despite this, the 2003 falls into a monolithic character similar to the 2004 and 2005, lacking a bit of personality. Drink 2021-2025.  2000 Colore: Certainly less monolithic than the ‘03, ‘04 and ‘05 and much more developed. This is fully mature, with pure tertiary characters on the nose – smoky, undergrowth and touch of funky Brett notes. This has lost much of its primary fruit and is on the decline. Drink now.  Find out more about Bibi Graetz and browse all listings or read more Editorial 

It’s 20 years since Bibi Graetz created Colore, one of Italy’s top wines. To mark the occasion, Gavin Smith tasted through 14 vintages – exploring the evolution of this rare Tuscan red, and its maker 

Tasting through 20 years of Bibi Graetz's Colore, one of Italy’s top wines – and exploring how the Tuscan red has evolved over the past two decades 

Tracing the rare Colore Tuscan red's evolution

A story in Sangiovese: two decades of Colore

“Turbot,” Hugh Johnson says, the sense of satisfaction-to-come oozing down the phoneline. It’s a Friday morning and like any dedicated oenophile he’s already planned dinner, and – most importantly – what he’ll be drinking. I expected white Burgundy, something majestic drawn from a cavernous cellar, but Johnson – arguably the world’s most famous wine writer – is not nearly that traditional, or predictable. A Cambridge degree, a flawless RP accent, an air of good tailoring and tweed, and 60 years in the wine trade might lead you to think otherwise. But, throughout our conversation – even with a Covid-safe telephone call in lieu of a face-to-face – there’s an undeniable sense that there is forever a twinkle of mischief in his eye, and that Johnson is a man who enjoys being ever so slightly provocative. On the aforementioned Friday night, he was planning to uncork a bottle of Kit’s Coty Bacchus – “Giving it a good chance to show,” he says. Chapel Down’s single-vineyard bottling of England’s trademark grape comes from a chalky site on the North Downs, a spot that Hugh thinks is “a Grand Cru of the future”. He’s currently particularly excited about the prospects for England’s wine production – “Not just because I’m a patriotic citizen,” he reassures me.  “I’m passionate about the new school of English winemaking… wonderful characters and flavours are emerging from the south of England.” Gusbourne’s 2018 Pinot Noir “blew [his] socks off” and he’s keenly following low-dosage experiments such as Dermot Sugrue’s #ZODO. He wonders if perhaps the line of chalk between the North and South Downs could in fact be the Côte d’Or or Champagne of the future. It was an oft-quoted encounter with two Burgundies at university that set a young Johnson on the path to wine writing. I love the image of his university room-mate stumbling in a little too merrily, sloshing fine wine over the floor and Hugh’s undoubtedly immaculate notes, insisting that the serious and studious character sampled the two glasses in his unsteady hands. “One was magic and one was ordinary,” Hugh has said of the incident: he was instantly hooked. Cambridge’s Wine and Food Society laid the groundwork for his education, and he penned his first wine column for Vogue in 1960 – recommending a rather ambitious line-up that included 1955 Cheval Blanc and 1960 Ch. Margaux. There was a stint at House & Garden, then he took over from André Simon as editor of Wine & Food, joined The Sunday Times and started turning out a series of smash-hit books, starting with The World Atlas of Wine in 1971. His annual Pocket Wine Book – the world’s best-selling wine guide – has been solid stocking fodder for 44 years. The Story of Wine – first published in 1989, and a reprint of which is the cause for our conversation – is my personal favourite. It’s a book that captures exactly why I love wine: it literally seeps through our history, a liquid that links nations, cultures and generations. And Johnson’s passion for the topic drips off the page; writing that’s as intoxicating as the substance it describes. The oeuvre feels like it hasn’t aged a day since its initial publication, expertly tracing our ties to the vine and its fruit “from Noah to now”.   The copy I was gifted aged 21 is a hefty thing – an impractical hardback of coffee-table only proportions that precludes it being devoured the way it should be. I was delighted, therefore, to discover the latest edition is much more comfortably lap-sized – as Hugh describes it, “friendlier”. It’s a book that begs for an afternoon in the armchair. But it’s a book he never set out to write, and one that fell out of a foray onto the small screen. Much of the research was undertaken by a young history graduate Helen Bettinson, for a series aired the same year on Channel 4. “I learnt so much about history generally, never mind the wine part,” Hugh says. And that’s part of the joy of The Story of Wine – it’s not really a wine book; it’s just a great book, that happens to be about wine.  “When I started, there was very little knowledge around,” Hugh explains. “I saw my job as stirring up interest, encouraging people to enjoy wine in a very general kind of way.” The tricky thing, over the years, he says – has been avoiding the tendency to get closer to the subject, to focus on ever more detail – “sometimes a really boring amount of detail,” he chuckles. His heart sinks, he tells me, when someone asks him what the percentage of X grape is in a wine – “I’m not interested in percentages, yet the world is,” he laments. “To be frank, I sometimes think that journalists get into the nitty gritty because they have nothing better to say.” He’s a man tired of the state of wine writing (“glossy magazines full of incredibly boring photographs of vineyards”), and especially with winemaker profiles (“It’s pretty hard to engage the average consumer in the story of an Italian farmer: there are millions of them”). We should be, he feels, “getting the point of a wine” – but, most importantly, not the points. Johnson has long riled against scores. “My real beef against it is that it gives the impression that there’s something absolute going on,” Johnson says. He understands that for consumers it’s a short-cut (“you don’t have to read all the blurb”), but he’s fought long and hard to try and wean them off their numbers dependency. How something as varied and glorious as wine, something so dependent on “mood and moment” could be captured by mathematics – for Johnson – beggars belief. “The whole notion of a 100-point wine is unimaginable to me – how could it not be better?” For Johnson, a fine wine is a wine worth talking about – and that sums up rather neatly why scores are, for him, so offensive. As he says in the preface to the new edition of The Story of Wine, “If [wines] lack the power of speech they can still tell stories.” He’s sold 20 million books (and counting) filled with their stories, and his. But what’s next for the veteran wine writer? Well, proofs for his next gardening tome – the latest anthology of Trad’s Diary – are sitting on his desk awaiting attention. Then, of course, there’s that turbot – and a bottle of Bacchus hoping to tell its tale. The latest edition of The Story of Wine is available to purchase from Académie du Vin Library.  Read more Editorial

Since he started writing about wine in the 1960s, Hugh Johnson has sold 20 million books. As a new edition of The Story of Wine is published by Académie du Vin Library, Sophie Thorpe talks to the best-selling author about a lifetime spent telling – and selling – the stories behind every bottle

The best-selling author Hugh Johnson on a lifetime spent telling – and selling – the stories behind every bottle.

Hugh Johnson, the wine whisperer

Hugh Johnson: the wine whisperer

Making wine under conflict Between 1975 and 1990, Lebanon was a mosaic of wars caused by complex shifting political, geographical, and demographical factors. When 16 years of Civil War were finally over, the foundations for a new republic had been laid, but at a considerable cost. Over 100,000 people were dead, nearly one million had been displaced, and billions of dollars worth of property and infrastructure had been destroyed. Chateau Musar’s vineyards had suffered damage from fighting in the Beka’a Valley, but although the winery in Ghazir had been subject to intermittent shelling, it had escaped significant damage. The fact that Musar only missed one year of winemaking during this period is no mere miracle – but a testament to the family Hochar’s dedication and devotion to their vision in the face of the most horrendous ‘working conditions’ imaginable. For Serge Hochar, protecting the family business his father had established was paramount. “If you ask me on which side I fought during these 15 years,” he once said, “I can only tell you that I was fighting for my wines.” And fight, he did. The effort required to get the Musar grapes from the vineyards to the winery each year during the Civil War was nothing short of Herculean. The pickers, who would often pick under artillery and gunfire as the dug-in militias bombarded each other, emerged as heroes. As did the truck drivers, who risked their lives when running the gauntlet of a journey that in peacetime can be made in two and a half hours, but during the war had sometimes taken several days. The story of Musar’s 1984 vintage in particular highlights the adversity Serge Hochar and family faced during the conflict – and also vindicates the passion at the heart of their decision to keep diligently making wine. In 1984, there was almost no vintage as there were only enough grapes to fill two trucks which proved to be a good thing as there were only two truck drivers brave enough to attempt to get them back to the winery.  Each went a different route. One took five days, the other seven. All the while, the grapes in the trucks were piled up, squashed, heating up in the hot sun each day and starting to ferment. A delivery of warm grapes can result in musty, unappealing wine but – such was
his philosophical outlook – Serge defiantly made wine with them anyway, bottling it and cellaring it to let it “become whatever it decided to be”.  Chateau Musar’s 1984 red should, in theory, have been a terrible wine. But against all odds, given the right conditions and no small amount of time, has become not only a drinkable wine – but a delicious, complex, exciting one, brimming with life and hope. The small amount of the vintage that exists was released to the marketplace in 2014 (exactly 30 years after it was made) and the bottles that occasionally appear on the market are very highly prized. This wine – and all of the vintages made during the Civil War – represent the Musar legacy Serge Hochar left in the capable hands of his sons Gaston and Marc, and his brother Ronald and his son Ralph, along with viticulturalist and winemaker Tarek Sakr. These wines were made during a time when simply driving to check on your crop or to pick up supplies meant dicing with death. “We did our best with what we have, as always. This is the Lebanese way. You give me grapes, and my job is only to help them to be the best wine they can be.” - Serge Hochar Chateau Musar: the Civil War years (1975-1990) 
Miraculously, in the 16 years of Civil War in Lebanon, not a single one of Chateau Musar’s employees was killed – even though many of the Hochar’s friends and neighbours lost their lives in sniper attacks, bombardments or car bombings. The winery escaped serious damage and, in retrospect, seems to have been the safest place in Lebanon. Thousands of bottles stored deep underground in Musar’s cellars carved in the limestone heart of Mount Lebanon slept peacefully during the years of conflict.  The Hochars even converted part of the cellars into a bomb shelter for refugees fleeing Beirut. And they took any opportunities they could to distribute and ship their wines while all the madness of war enveloped them, steadily growing Musar’s reputation around the world. By the end of the Civil War, Chateau Musar was so much more than a maker of exquisite wines. It had established itself as an icon of national endurance and hope. And who wouldn’t drink to that? Read more about life at Chateau Musar during the Civil War years with the timeline below: 1976 30,000 Syrian troops move into Lebanon ostensibly to restore peace, but in reality, this was Syria’s attempt to claim the lands (including the Beka’a Valley) it believes it was owed when Lebanon became independent in 1943. “In 1976 there was total war in Lebanon. We had no electricity. No fuel. No transport. No harvest. No nothing. 1976 was the only year in which we failed to make any wine. For others, the weather is a problem – for us, it is war.” Without the ability to reach the grapes, to pick them and bring them back to the winery, there could be no new wine. Even if there had been, there was nobody to buy it. So Serge saw the opportunity to reach out and find new markets for the wines he had in his cellars. His father-in-law had a travel-agency in London and agreed to start importing his wines in the UK. 1977 From 1977 to 1990 (and during plenty of small dirty wars since) the Hochar family successfully made wine each year – often plucking grapes from the barbed wire zones of the frontline. “During times of war, we have to put all our belief and all our assets in wine!” said Serge. “We have to keep going with the things that are our essence. By now, I was used to war. So I kept on making wine; I was making it for a market I did not yet know existed.”

 1978 The UN steps in with peacekeeping troops and Israel is forced to withdraw from Lebanon. Syria steps in instead, targeting the Christian population in the ‘Hundred Days’ War’, the worst offensive for two years. Serge: “There was very heavy shelling in Beirut. The Syrians shelled Achrafiyeh, where our office is [in central Beirut]. At the time, my wife Tania was running the Godiva chocolatier nearby. She took the kids to the winery cellar in Ghazir in shock. There were many dead in Achrafiyeh. My secretary hid in the strong metal filing cabinet. Many people here were psychologically affected.” 
 1979 Revolution in Iran leads to radicalisation of the Shi'ite movement in Lebanon, and the creation of the Amal party, the ‘movement of the dispossessed’.

 1980 Bashir Gemayal unites Lebanon’s Christian military factions, creating the Lebanese Forces political party.  Serge: “This was one of the worst years of the war for us. I used to write a harvest report, but have mislaid it for this year.”  Chateau Musar UK was officially established this year. 1981 Relations between Syria and Israel deteriorate. Serge: “This was a year of terrible hardship. Tania and the kids left for London. They had to. I could not guarantee their safety. They came back, then left again in 1983. I promised that I would join them the moment the war ended. We did see each other every few months when I could get a flight.” 
 1982 Israel invades Lebanon again intending to dislodge the PLO. Some 18,000 people, mostly civilians, lose their lives as the battle-zone moves towards Beirut. Italian, French and US troops assist in the evacuation of the Palestinians. In the Beka’a, 80 hectares of Musar vineyards become the frontline between the Syrians and Israelis, whose tanks faced each other over the vines. Serge calculates that he will not be able to harvest grapes from them again until 1985. But he does. In the confusion that ensues after the invasion, the loyal Bedouin pickers collect what fruit they can, and the Hochar trucks manage to make their way to the winery. Serge: “The 1982 is a pure wine of war.” 1983 Times darken further as suicide bombing reprisals shock Beirut and its suburbs. In the Chouf mountains, the Mountain War begins. That summer, Serge took his family on holiday to the US. During a stop-over in Paris on their return journey, war broke out again so the family decided to settle in France. Winter is severe in the Beka’a, with metres of snow coating the vineyards; summer is barely warmer, and the Hochars’ harvest was late. A break in fighting, instilled by the American fleet anchored off Beirut, came at just the right time for the vineyard manager to pick a few grape bunches and smuggle them into Beirut for Ronald to check. They were good: there had been no rain, no heatwave, and the grapes had reached perfect condition. Ronald put in a call to Serge, who was visiting the US, and the brothers decided to match the bravery of their vineyard manager and order the harvest in. “It was very dangerous,” admits Ronald: “Serge flew to Cyprus, then took a six-hour hovercraft crossing to Beirut; he arrived at the winery in Ghazir moments after two rockets blasted the coast road he’d just been driving on.”  The truck drivers, with their precious loads of hand-cut grapes, carefully negotiated the capillary-like country roads that would lead them to the winery, relying on a network of local gossip to learn which roads the militias were controlling with checkpoints and which route between the Beka’a and Ghazir would be the least bloody. They were successful. As Ronald said, there were two advantages: “Our usual headache, the traffic jams, were gone. And the harvest, just like that of 1982, was excellent!” 
 1984 The Lebanese Forces, having controlled the capital since 1982, are expelled, and the Amal Party takes control of West Beirut. Peacekeeping forces (from the US, Italy and the UK) leave Lebanon. Serge: “We did our best with what we have, as always. This is the Lebanese way. You give me grapes, and my job is only to help them to be the best wine they can be. In 1984 the sun was very hot, and the fighting was hotter. After waiting and waiting for a break in the shelling, and more than a month after the last day of the harvest should have been, we quickly picked whatever grapes were left on the vines. Most were very ripe and sugary. There were enough grapes for only two truckloads, and only two of our drivers were brave enough to attempt the journey to Ghazir.  The first truck managed to find a way through the cedar forests in the northern Beka’a and get eventually to Tripoli, near the northern border with Syria. In five days it was with us. The second truck drove south over mountain tracks to Jezzine, then crossed the battlefronts on the way down to Sidon. From there, the trucks needed to avoid Beirut, so they waited for a boat. There was a terrible storm, which delayed the ferry to Jounieh.  Eventually, the storm was quiet enough and the ferry sailed slowly up the coast. The trucks arrived at the winery after seven days, on October 20th, 45 days after what should have been the end of the harvest – 45! So, in 1984 the grapes that we received were hot, bruised, sticky and very much fermenting. As an act of defiance, and as an act of faith, as a way of showing that the Lebanese spirit can never be broken, we made those grapes into wine. I made the 1984 to declare war against war.” Fittingly, 1984 was the year that Serge Hochar was named as the first ever Decanter magazine ‘Man of the Year’ - for his unswerving commitment to winemaking. 
 1985 The Israelis continue their withdrawal from the south of Lebanon under armed pressure from Hezbollah. They keep an occupied ‘security zone’ along their border. In the War of the Camps, Palestinian refugee camps are targeted by Shi'ite and Amal militia. Serge: “The Israelis continued to withdraw from Sidon, but it was still difficult to get the grapes from the Beka’a to the winery. After this year, things started to settle down, on our terms.” 1986 Serge: “Military action destroyed some of the vineyards on Mount Lebanon. Our white grape Obaideh was, and is, grown on the slopes of the Anti-Lebanon and was still available – but we only ever used this grape for Arak (Lebanon’s aniseed-flavoured aperitif). Prior to 1986, the Chateau white was only produced from Merwah grapes. From 1986 we began to blend Obaideh with Merwah and the combination worked. We were the first to use these two local varieties in a unique new style of wine.” Close to four decades later, Musar is still the only one. 1987 Anger at the continued presence of Israel in Lebanon is augmented by the first Intifada (Palestinian uprising against Israel’s occupation of the West Bank and Gaza).

 1988 Following Amin Gemayel, Lebanon’s new interim president is announced as Michel Aoun. Serge: “Life in Lebanon was not so hectic in 1988. It was a normal year, politically speaking.” 1989 President Aoun declares war on Syria. After seven months of fighting, with 800 dead, the Arab League negotiates a ceasefire. The Taif Agreement is signed, with the ethos ‘no victor and no vanquished’, in an attempt to end the Lebanese Civil War. Meanwhile, life is beginning to return to normal in the Hochar vineyards. In an impressive vintage, Carignan grapes begin to win Serge’s heart.

 1990 Miraculously, in the 16 years of Civil War in Lebanon, not a single one of Chateau Musar’s employees was killed – even though many of the Hochar’s friends and neighbours lost their lives in sniper attacks, bombardments or car bombings. The winery escaped serious damage and, in retrospect, seems to have been the safest place in Lebanon. Thousands of bottles stored deep underground in Musar’s cellars carved in the limestone heart of Mount Lebanon slept peacefully during the years of conflict.  The Hochars even converted part of the cellars into a bomb shelter for refugees fleeing Beirut. And they took any opportunities they could to distribute and ship their wines while all the madness of war enveloped them, steadily growing Musar’s reputation around the world. By the end of the Civil War, Chateau Musar was so much more than a maker of exquisite wines. It had established itself as an icon of national endurance and hope. And who wouldn’t drink to that?

Explore more Editorial 

The story of Ch. Musar’s 1984 vintage highlights the adversity of Serge Hochar during the conflict and also vindicates the passion to keep diligently making wine. We find out more

The story of Musar’s 1984 vintage highlights the adversity of Serge Hochar during the conflict and also vindicates the passion to keep diligently making wine

Civil War and Chateau Musar's fight for survival

Civil war and Chateau Musar's fight for survival

We talk to Europe’s leading glassmakers from the 250-year-old Austrian family-run firm Riedel to the young dynamo behind Grassl, which launched in 2018. We also speak
to Jancis Robinson MW on her recent collaboration with British designer and master craftsman Richard Brendon, who explains that traditional glass types have long been in desperate need of modernisation. Legend has it that Marie Antoinette’s breasts provided the outline for the creation of the
coupe, the shallow-bowled champagne glass that graced the lips of Hollywood’s starlets during the Golden Age, and enjoyed regular appearances in episodes of Mad Men. When it comes to wine glasses, aesthetics has historically taken precedence but functionality has risen to the top of the priority list.  Wine has long suffered an injustice at its final destination whether it’s champagne, sherry or claret. Designer Richard Brendon recalls his first meeting with Master of Wine, Jancis Robinson. “She said she’d never understood why white wine was put in a smaller glass than red wine and described this as discrimination. Champagne producers hate flutes because they don’t allow for any of the aromatics to get out of the wine, likewise Sherry and Port producers don’t like the small glasses that their wine traditionally gets put in.” There are a growing number of glass companies aiming to redress the balance. And, in the
same way as every winemaker in Burgundy has his or her own particular way of producing the perfect Pinot Noir, every glassmaker has a view to crafting the most suitable vessel in which to pour it.  Austrian-based Riedel has gone down the route of a glass particular to a variety from Chardonnay to Zinfandel while Brendon has followed Robinson’s one-size-fits-all advice.  “Jancis was entirely confident that we could create one glass that worked perfectly for every style of wine,” says Brendon” but we also needed two decanters to ensure we have a collection that works for every wine.”  With 40 years of experience tasting wine, Robinson set out the specific parameters for her ideal glass. “The widest part of the glass should be exactly 125ml or one-sixth of a bottle. This would mean when a standard pour is served, the wine will have maximum surface area, allowing for all of the aroma to get out of the wine,” he says.  “Jancis wanted a nice tall bowl to allow for the wine to be swirled in the glass to get more of the aromas out of the wine, and that the opening of the glass should be as small as possible to trap the aromas of the wine, but still big enough for even the largest of noses! The thickness of the rim was of utmost importance, she wanted it to be gossamer-thin so that you hardly notice the glass when taking a sip. “ Gossamer-thin is an apt descriptor for Zalto’s glassware, particularly the elegant, fine stems
that induce a certain nervousness in the holder. It’s a far cry from the heavy cut-crystal glasses that adorned the dining tables of previous generations. Daniel Primack of Zalto’s UK importer WineRackd admits such delicacy can be a concern initially but “with perfect balance in the hand and such fine construction, you may worry that you’re going to break them just by drinking from them but fear not,” he says.  “They are mouth-blown and cooled very slowly making them incomparably tough for something so fine. Zalto’s own recipe of the three main ingredients for creating crystal, silica, soda (sodium carbonate) or potash (potassium carbonate) and lime (calcium oxide) also contribute to the clarity and durability. They are blown differently to other Austrian glasses, with the bowl and stem formed as one piece, then the foot attached. A more usual arrangement is for the stem to be glued to the bowl. Remember the attachment point is a weak point” Staying in Austria, Riedel is perhaps the country’s most famous glassmaker in the wine world, producing an impressive 60 million glasses annually at its three factories. The 250-year-old company now uses machines to make 95% of its glasses. The company’s UK managing director Stephen McGraw says “we can produce machine-made glasses which are almost indistinguishable from handmade glasses.  However handmade glasses are still very important to us, as we preserve a skill which is still recognisable to the techniques used in Roman times. In terms of machine-made versus handmade? The glasses will all perform equally well, from a sensory point of view.” He adds that its unusually shaped decanters are a different matter: master glassmakers, who tend to have around 15 years of experience to be at the top of their game, can only make these intricate objects.  A much more recent addition to the glass scene is Swiss brand Grassl, which launched in
2018.  Founder and wine collector Alexander Mackh, who is just 26 years old, explains its conception. “I launched Grassl Glass because I didn’t enjoy the proportions of the glassware on the market. Finer, deeper, less-extracted, less-oaked wine [styles] require different glassware, so I decided to create my own.”  Prototypes in hand, Mackh tested the glasses on some of Burgundy's top winemakers as well as heading to the finest names in Bordeaux including Châteaux Ausone and Palmer. Tweaks were made accordingly and now the Slovakian-blown artisanal glasses can be found as far afield as South Korea and Australia.  
What is the magic number?  While Brendon and Robinson have created just one wine glass, Grassl’s magic number is four. The designs include Liberté, which is ideal for medium to low acidity white wines, which are oak aged and 1855, a glass for reds high in tannin, richness and alcohol. If push comes to shove, Mackh says “If you wanted just one glass that does the job, it would be the Liberté as an objective tool for tasting." Riedel is known for its varietal-specific glasses and there are myriad options but there has to
be genuine rationale behind a new style. “A glass designed for a specific wine must show that wine better than any other, non-specific glass would,” says McGraw before explaining the ongoing process that shapes its bowls. “We design and test our glasses together with winemakers. Through a series of tasting workshops, we fine-tune and hone the shapes of our glasses until the winemaker tells us that the glass is showing his wine correctly. Further, after a glass is designed and in production, we do continuous testing and tasting workshops to ensure that the glass is as relevant still as the day it was first designed.” However, there’s no need to be rigid in what you pour in the grape-specific glasses. Riedel has a glass, for example, that suits rosé Champagne, Nebbiolo and New World Pinot
Noir. You certainly won’t go to wine hell if you also use it for a glass of Chardonnay. Primack agrees: “The names are simply a guide to identifying the bowl. They were named this way as 15 years ago, it was the convention to use a wine name. Today, Zalto stress it is not a prescription for the contents. For example, many people appreciate certain styles of White Burgundy in the Bordeaux bowl. This has been proven time and time again”.  Function has now won over form in the wine glass arena but that’s not at the expense of beauty. The bedazzling array of aesthetically appealing wine glasses provides a tactile experience for both your hands and lips. Wine is delivered to our senses as the winemaker intended and that means it has never tasted so good. Explore more Editorial 

Fine wine demands the perfect glass to provide the ultimate sensory experience but the resting place of the final pour has long been neglected. But it’s all change.  

Fine wine demands the perfect glass to provide the ultimate sensory experience. We speak to Riedel Europe’s leading glass makers and British craftsmen

Fine wine glasses versus aesthetics

 When the UK entered the first coronavirus lockdown in March 2020, there was a sense that the end of long, thoughtful, funny and serious conversations was dangerously close. Over a Zoom call, sat at our respective kitchen tables, F+R’s Patrick O’Connor, creative director Alan Aboud and myself, a journalist and editor, started to wonder if we could work together in some way to explore topics usually explored at the communal tables that were sadly empty.  The first project we worked on together marked the 90th birthday of iconic Lebanese winemaker Chateau Musar and the simultaneous publishing of a book celebrating the winery by Académie du Vin Library. Working together with music consultant Leo Walton, we conceived a package of content for FINE+RARE’s website to coincide with F+R’s exclusive release of various mixed cases of Chateau Musar vintages going back to the 1960s.  As part of the content package, I wrote three articles for the F+R website, and worked with Leo to create four Spotify playlists featuring Lebanese music from the relevant decades of the Musar vintages being released: the 1960s, 1970s, 2000s and 2010s. Leo and I also suggested the potential to add more cultural context to both the wine and our selection of music by producing a podcast in which we interviewed a Lebanese musician about musical culture and heritage in the region. We explored various ideas before interviewing two members of the Beirut Groove Collective – a group of DJs with a reputation for unearthing records from the 1960s, 70s and 80s and giving them a new audience. We asked the DJs to give us the low down on their legendary all-night vinyl-only parties in Lebanon’s capital, and about Beirut’s surprisingly vibrant music scene throughout the Civil War (1975-1990). We also asked Ernesto about his new reissue project with BBE Records and the first release in the series: Ihsan Al-Munzer’s 1979 synth-led Belly Dance Disco album.  This idea – of creating original editorial content that proactively ventured into topics in and adjacent to the worlds of fine wine and spirits in order to enrich the FINE+RARE experience – immediately appealed to all involved. Between us, we started to flesh out the idea for a new content platform that could explore and commission stories that took advantage of our combined knowledge, skillsets and networks, plus FINE+RARE’s access to the best producers and most interesting personalities driving quality in the worlds of fine wine and exceptional spirits.  While the concept was always for FONDATA to be a multi-media platform whereby we would produce content in whatever medium seemed most relevant to a given subject matter – podcast, video, blog or print – we focused our initial efforts on producing a large-format, print journal. It would provide a brilliant canvas for us to commission the best writers, photographers and illustrators, and it would also be the perfect format to function as a physical mission statement, something we could send to F+R customers. Doing this in 2020, when we were in lockdown, seemed like a great way to maintain connection and morale in an unprecedented moment in living memory. We formed a small ‘bubble’ to sit, appropriately distanced, in Patrick’s back garden in Hackney to brainstorm the idea and start mapping out what stories we could potentially commission for our first FONDATA journal. For the inaugural issue, one story in particular was pivotal to realising our ambition: commissioning American essayist, author and regular contributor to The New Yorker, Adam Gopnik to write a piece for us. In his book, Paris to the Moon (Quercus, 2000), Gopnik likens Jean-Philippe Derenne’s L’Amateur de Cuisine book (Éditions Stock, 1996) to “a medieval almanac, offering a timeless, secure, benevolent universe of food.” In our initial conversations, we’d identified Wine Grapes, A complete guide to 1,368 vine varieties, including their origins and flavours (Allen Lane, 2012) – the weighty 1,240-page tome authored by Jancis Robinson MW, Julia Harding MW and Dr José Vouillamoz – as a book we’d love to celebrate in some way. We wondered if Gopnik would be as enamoured with the book as much as Derenne’s and if he’d write something for us about it and its value to wine lovers and gastronomes alike. We duly sent him a copy of Wine Grapes (clothbound and slipcased) and a note introducing ourselves and outlining FONDATA’s ambition. He loved the book and the idea for the piece, so we contacted Jancis to ask if she would be happy to be interviewed by Adam. It turned out they were both fans of each other’s work. Our first feature was underway. But how would we present the piece? What would FONDATA look like? Alan asked Jancis if she would agree to be our cover star for our first issue. When she agreed, we had to work out how to bring the inaugural cover to life. “Gavin Bond popped into my head,” Alan, recalls, of the task at hand, “as he has become the ‘go-to’ photographer for celebrity portraits, especially in the film and fashion business. I felt Jancis deserved that status and reverence. Of course, the wine world reveres her, but no wine journal seems to be able to look beyond a shoot involving wine bottles and grapes.”   With Gavin Bond on board, the next step was to think about the shoot itself. “We enlisted the help of a wonderful floral design company, Studio Lupine,” Alan explains of his art direction. “We briefed Raggie Furuseth, the designer, to create a wildly original space in which Jancis could be photographed. The resulting portrait is a stunning and sensitive study of one of the world’s most learned and charming wine writers in her prime.” Another crucial part of our first issue planning was around design concepting and setting out our production values. As a kind of guiding light, Alan and I had adopted a mantra: “This isn’t a magazine”, as FONDATA would have none of the concerns of a regular magazine. We didn’t want to print on flimsy paper. We didn’t want to create something predictable or ephemeral, but rather an object that felt it had more permanence, more lasting value. FONDATA, we were all very clear, would strive from the outset to be a joyous, opulent celebration of cerebral, long-form editorial content.  Alan began working with his studio designer, Haley Austin, exploring different oversized formats, experimenting with page layouts and type treatments to realise his vision for how FONDATA would look. At the same time, he commissioned Rick Banks of Foundry 37 to create a bespoke logotype for FONDATA’s masthead based on his F37 Caslon typeface. We also adopted F37 as our core typeface for body copy, and to use at large scale for feature headlines and beautiful, full-page pull quotes.  In terms of our editorial direction, we were keen from the offset to commission editorial that explored evergreen (and ever-fascinating) topics. What does it mean to collect? How has the pandemic affected our lifestyles, and how much of that is positive? How do ideas germinate, and how does genius emerge? How important is history and tradition to innovation and revolution? What are the most significant drivers and the biggest hurdles for excellence? Once the Gopnik feature was in the proverbial bag, we set to work commissioning an issue full of features that we hoped would appeal to a wine-loving audience but not feel like we were trying to sell them something.  We approached Jancis Robinson’s co-authors of Wine Grapes, Julia Harding MW and Dr José Vouillamoz, to call out five relatively obscure grape varieties from around the world to champion them and the producers making remarkable wines with them. We also commissioned botanical artist Sarah Jane Humphrey to illustrate each variety.  We asked the former director of London’s Design Museum, Deyan Sudjic OBE, to contemplate the history of social spaces. To accompany his feature, we asked him to approach a number of highly regarded architects and interior designers to illustrate their visions of social spaces of the near future. As a result, we soon added John Pawson, AB Rogers, Paloma Strelitz, and Jon Marshall to our list of contributors. We tasked journalist and author Dylan Jones OBE with critiquing wine’s critical landscape, connecting him with some of the world’s leading wine writers and critics to discover how the pandemic had reshaped their work lives and lifestyles.  Author and historian (and one of the most elegantly dressed gentlemen about town) Nicholas Foulkes very literally wrote the book on cigars. His son, Max, is a Master of Havana and works at Davidoff in Mayfair. And it was Nicholas’ father-in-law who first introduced him to the pleasures of cigar smoking. Especially for our first issue, Nicholas pondered the joy of his relationship with his sons and the idea of passing cultural knowledge and enthusiasms from one generation to the next. We commissioned Julian Broad to shoot a portrait of Nicholas with his sons.  I spent time talking with restaurateur-turned winegrower Alex Xu and wrote a piece about how he’d come to completely reshape his future by planting three hectares of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay vines in the foothills of the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain in China’s most idyllic province. I also interviewed Waterford distillery owner Mark Reynier to find out how (and why) he’s bringing notions of terroir, traceability and transparency to the fore in the world of single malt whisky.   Meanwhile, British chef and food writer Thom Eagle contemplated the value of spending more, rather than less, time in the kitchen, and artist Stewart Walton illustrated the piece.  We commissioned educator and business guru Germana Di Falco to interview fashion designer Brunello Cucinelli about his philosophy to business and life itself, and we engaged British-born, LA-based writer and critic Geoff Dyer to chart the slow journey towards appreciation of and reverence for well-chosen wine. The issue signs off with a Letter from California penned by winemaker Maya Dalla Valle, who reflects on her 11-year journey to become the winemaker at her family’s celebrated vineyard in Napa. The resulting inaugural issue is everything we hoped it would be. As Patrick says in his publisher’s letter on its very first page, it is a celebration. One that delivers rich, engaging editorial content in a format that feels lavish and collectable in and of itself. “It is also a collective,” he continues. “The best minds brought together to tackle the subjects that captivate, so arresting in their absence – experience, space, people and family. [This issue] became a journey into the sound of the things that matter to the soul of the collector, the reasons things exist, the FONDATA.”

FONDATA Editor Gavin Lucas on the content platform’s journey from ideation to realisation

Exploring how the FINE+RARE Group created FONDATA, a unique wine and spirits content platform

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